


Reflection of the Past

by MickeyTRN



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Anxiety, Child Abandonment, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ezra has to deal with his past basically, Families of Choice, Family, Flashbacks, Gen, Rescue, brief description of a corpse, maybe slight Kanera down the road, not as bad as it sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-10-18 23:55:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10627839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MickeyTRN/pseuds/MickeyTRN
Summary: Ezra considered himself pretty hardened towards the atrocities of the Empire, but things change when he encounters an abandoned infant and is forced to confront the hardships of his own past.





	1. A Grim Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Decided to try my hand at a SWR fic! It will only be a couple chapters long, but I really love these characters, they have so much potential and I’d love to see them develop and become more well-rounded members of the SWEU. Anyhoo, just wanted to warn that there is mention of death in this fic. Not a major character and nothing extremely graphic, but if you’re squeamish you probably wanna turn back now. Thanks for reading and don’t forget to follow, favorite, and review! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, story, etc, blah blah blah, if I did why would I be here????

Ezra Bridger was no stranger to death.  

 

Growing up on the streets under the harsh rule of the Empire, one becomes quite hardened towards it.  Starvation, exposure, even pure, senseless, and unprovoked brutality were just facts of life.  Therefore, it wasn’t uncommon to turn down the wrong alley and see the gruesome remains of a former friend or neighbor.  It was the Universe they lived it.  So naturally, one learns not to spend too much time worrying about the corpses on the street, lest you run the risk of becoming one yourself.  

 

It was empathy or survival, and survival ultimately won.  

 

Throughout the years, Ezra had seen a lot.  The Ghost crew had been to some of the worst the war-torn corners of the Galaxy had to offer. Ezra had seen teammates, fellow rebels, falling out of the sky in hideous balls of embers.  There wouldn’t even be a body to bury.  It was horrifying, but he felt confident that there was nothing else life could throw at him that he couldn’t handle.  

 

But for some reason, nothing could have prepared Ezra for the sight laid out before him.  

 

The body of a Mirialan woman, beaten and battered beyond recognition sat on the side of the street, hastily pushed into a narrow alley and twisted into an unnatural position.  If he had to guess, Ezra would say it was probably just a poor sap who got caught committing some petty crime by some imperial sleemo who just happened to be having a bad day.  Nothing he hadn’t seen before.  But it wasn’t the body that bothered him.  

 

At least not  _ her  _ body.  

 

Clinging to the young woman’s chest in innocent slumber, was an infant.  A baby boy, judging by the dirty blue blanket draped around him.  He couldn’t have been more than a few months old, but he was already sporting a shock of black hair that was sticking out from underneath his dressings.  

 

The boy just lay there, seemingly unaware of the fact that the chest he clung to so dearly was no longer rising and falling; the breath of life having left it long ago.  

 

Every sensible instinct Ezra had urged him to keep walking; to ignore the sight before him and keep moving. Let someone else deal with…  _ this _ .  Besides, his crew was expecting him to arrive back at  _ the Ghost _ any minute now and he was told to avoid creating any problems while he was out on his own.  They had just arrived in this town and wanted to avoid attention, negative or positive, for as long as possible.  Not that Ezra would obey.  When did he ever obey?

 

But this was different.  

 

Ezra knew what it was like to be the little boy sleeping before him.  He knew what it was like to be left alone, too young to fully understand why or how.  And he knew how much it would hurt when people passed by him on the streets, knowing full well that he was suffering and not even sparing a sideways glance.  

 

Ezra hesitantly approached the child, who just recently had begun to stir.  His mind was full of doubt.  It didn’t make sense.  Why would the empire spare this child, but not their mother?  How could anyone leave a child alone to suffer like this?  Hell, as much as he hated to think it, killing the kid would be more humane than this.  

 

It took every ounce of focus he could muster just to control his anger and sorrow and make peace with what he saw before him.  

 

With a sharp inhale, Ezra crouched down beside the dilapidated figure and carefully peeled back the blanket that had been shielding the small boy from the harsh reality around him.  A pair of tired, brown eyes blinked open at the gesture, quickly overflowing with tears as the child began to wail from being awakened.  

 

Ezra backed away in fear.  He had very little experience with infants, and he had no idea how to react to this tiny body crying in front of him.  

 

“H-Hey,” he stuttered, slowly re-approaching the boy, “It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.”  Checking over his shoulder, hoping ever so slightly that someone would object and take this burden away from him, Ezra finally reached down and gathered the child into his arms.  The child continued to wail as the teenaged boy slowly brought the infant to his chest, rocking him gently.  

 

At his side, Ezra heard his comlink start to go off.   _ ’Crap,’  _ he thought to himself.  He had been due back at  _ the Ghost _ awhile ago now, and he could practically sense the crew’s collective irritation through the quiet static on his belt.  

 

_ “Spector Six, you’re late for rendezvous.  Do you copy?  What’s your status?” _ Hera’s voice sounded through the small device, a mixture of worry and sass backing her tone.  

 

“Spector Six here, I’ve run into a slight…. Complication _ …. _ ” the teen replied, trying to think of how in the universe he’d explain this one.  

 

“ _ What do you mean ‘complication’?” _  This time it was the voice of his master coming through, his exasperation clearly evident.  

 

“Welllll…..” he replied, still attempting to appease the crying child in his arms.  

 

_ “Spector Six, an entire fleet of Stormtroopers are headed in your direction for their nightly patr- Is that a baby I hear?”  _ Kanan cried.   _ “Ezra, what’s going on?  Why do you have a baby with you?”   _

 

“Look, long story...” Ezra sighed.  “Just meet me on the edge of town in five.  I  _ might  _ be bringing a guest…” he said as he scrambled to his feet and began to move forwards, infant held tightly to his chest.  

 

_ “‘Guest’?!  Ezra what are yo-” _ Ezra switched off the comlink before he could be questioned further.  His number one priority now was getting back to  _ the Ghost  _ in one piece.  He could already hear the clanking of armor, signalling the rapidly approaching Stormtroopers he was warned about.  

 

“Great…” he mumbled to himself as he adjusted the child in his arms to a more secure position and took off running.  

 

The extra weight wasn’t the problem.  Ezra was more than capable of running with an extra 10 pounds as if it were nothing, but the sheer vulnerability of one so small forced the young Jedi to slow his pace considerably.  The continued protests of the child worried him as well.  At this rate, bucketheads were bound to catch up with them eventually and he was as good as captured.  So, Ezra did what he does best: he got crafty.  

 

As the sounds of marching troops approached at an alarming rate, Ezra ducked down an alley, looking for a quick escape route.  If he could just get up on that fence, he could make his way to the rooftops and hide behind the external ventilation system until the troops past.  But the child in his arms would make it rather difficult to climb.  Ezra weighed his options for a moment before eventually setting the child down for a moment while he attempted to form a makeshift sling from his overshirt.  It wasn’t perfect ny any means, and the total lack of security it provided worried the teen, but it was the best he could do in such a short time.  

 

Ezra managed to scramble up to the roof just in time for the troops to make their rounds down the street.  Thankfully, the soldiers only paused for a moment at the sound of the infant’s wails; quickly giving up on investigating further after the source of the noise could not be easily found.  

 

Ezra let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding as the troops finally passed and he was free to make his way back to the streets.  Nightfall had just begun to approach and daylight was quickly fading.  By the time he made it back to  _ the Ghost _ , it was almost pitch black outside and the child secured hastily against his body had finally fallen asleep.  Ezra was greeted by the soft, glowing light of  _ the Ghost _ ’s port and the faded silhouettes of his crew standing nearby.  

 

Hera was the first to approach.  “Where have you been?!” she scolded with a mixture of anger and relief.  “We were worried sick!  We thought you had been captured!  Or-” she was quickly cut off by the wailing of the now-awake child strapped to her youngest crew member’s chest.  Hera was stunned silent.  

 

“Oi, please don’t tell me that’s what I think it is,” Zeb growled, slowly making his way towards the three of them.  

 

“Ezra…” Kanan approached, arms crossed and brows furrowed, “You’ve got some explaining to do….”


	2. Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d just like to start by thanking everyone that liked, followed, bookmarked, and reviewed the last chapter! I really didn’t expect such positive feedback and it was very encouraging! I’d especially like to thank fluffykitty12 on AO3, it’s a dream of mine to work with Lucasfilm and write for the SWEU, so your comment really made my day. Also, I encourage you all to check out the fic: “A Different Beginning” by PhoenixRebel7 on fanfiction.net. I’m the Beta on that story and Phoenix has some awesome ideas, so you should really check it out. One last thing, if any of you would like to check out my art, including pieces I will put up corresponding to this and other fics I like, you can follow me @mrntanksart on Tumblr. Anyways, thank you all so much and enjoy this chapter!

Ezra sat at the common room table with his head down.  He didn’t need to use the Force to know that all eyes were on him in that moment.  Nobody had said a word to him since the events of the evening had transpired.  Whether it was out of shock or anger, he wasn’t sure, but the lack of noise was certainly getting to him.  

 

Just as he felt he was about to go crazy, the silence was broken by the sound of the common room door opening.  Their pilot entered, returning from tending to their unannounced guest.  It had been no easy task to get the youngling to sleep, and the effort had obviously taken a toll on her.  Hera Syndulla now rubbed her temples in an attempt to ease the throbbing brought forth by the infant’s wails as she crossed the common room floor and took up a position against the wall with the others, her arms folded against her chest.  

 

“So….” she began with a sigh, “Care to tell us what happened out there?” 

 

Ezra’s head was spinning.  Emotions and instinct were still clashing.  His past and present seemed to be converging in a single moment, leaving him feeling helpless and confused.  He himself could barely process what had just happened and how he was feeling, so how could he possibly hope to explain in to someone else?  Time froze and he found himself just staring at his hands in disbelief, unable to answer such a simple question.   

 

“Ezra?” Hera’s voice was laced with worry after witnessing the vacant expression displayed upon the face of the boy before her.  “It’s okay, Ezra, just explain to us what happened.  Where did you find the baby?”  

 

Ezra cautiously glanced at Kanan.  He knew that his Master could sense his discomfort right now.  Even after learning how to better control his emotions, there were few things he could hide from the man he shared a Force bond with.  Sure enough, it wasn’t a moment later that the older Jedi spoke up.  

 

“Zeb, Hera, Chop, can you give us a minute?”  Kanan asked.  Ezra swallowed hard.  

 

The two humanoids nodded despite their obvious suspicion and filed out of the room, Chopper warbling drowsily behind them.  

 

Kanan slowly crossed the room and joined his student on the small bench, facing his general direction the best he could without his sense of sight.  Ezra tensed, mentally preparing for the prying he would face at the hands of the older man.  

 

“I can sense something’s troubling you, care to tell me about it?” The Jedi spoke with his typical, smooth tone, but Ezra could still sense the awkward tension that lay behind it.  Even after sharing a bond with each other for so long, the two still seemed to have trouble communicating in situations like this.  

 

Ezra sighed.  “So that’s what you’re gonna lead with today, huh?”  A sass machine till the end.  But Kanan was clearly not in the mood for his games.  

 

“Listen, Ezra, you can’t hide your emotions from me.  I don’t know what happened out there, but I do know that it’s really getting to you.  I also know that you’re not gonna be able to move past this until you talk about it, so you might as well get it over with now and save us some trouble down the road.”  

 

But Ezra remained silent.  He didn’t know what to say.  He knew the crew wouldn’t be angry with him for helping someone.  That’s what they did every day, even if bringing the child back to  _ the Ghost _ may have been a step too far.  But it wasn’t fear of his crewmates’ anger that was getting to him, nor it was it the reason he hesitated to explain.  All of it came back to him.   _ His _ reaction to the situation.   _ His _ actions when confronted with something that was close to nothing compared to what he had seen in the past.   _ His _ conflicting emotions.   _ His _ confusion.   _ His- _

 

“Ezra…?” Kanan’s voice snapped the young man back to reality.  For a moment he had forgotten he was even there.  “Seriously, what’s going on?”  Kanan’s tone had changed.  He no longer displayed his  typical air of indifference underlined with mild irritation.  His voice now teetered on the brink of panic and rage; concerned, yet frustrated with his Padawan.  

 

Ezra had no choice but to explain now.  He did the best he could.  He detailed the events of his afternoon, leading up to his unfortunate happening upon the child.  He tried to explain his pain, his conflict, his confusion over everything, but he couldn’t find the words.  He couldn’t explain what he didn’t understand.  

 

Kanan listened solemnly, offering only terse nods in response as the boy wove his tale.  Ezra wished more than anything in that moment for his Master to provide wisdom, scolding,  _ anything  _ honestly.  But the man remained silent, listening intently to his Padawan’s words.  

 

“Aren’t you going to say something?” Ezra gave up waiting and took up the conversational initiative himself.  

 

Kanan shook his head softly.  “I don’t know what to say…”

 

“I don’t know, give me some of your Jedi wisdom!  Tell me I need to control my emotions, yell at me, something!”

 

Kanan chuckled, but quickly returned to his typical demeanor.  “You already know all of those things.  Telling you them again won’t change anything”.

 

As much as he hated to admit it, Kanan was right.  “So,  _ are you _ mad at me?” 

 

Kanan put his hand on his Padawan’s shoulder’ his blank gaze meeting the electric blue of his student’s.  “I’m not mad at you Ezra; especially not for your actions.  You were just helping a person who couldn’t help himself.  We’re Spectors, that’s what we do.  But that’s also why I am confused.  You are so upset about something we do almost daily.  Why?  What makes this situation different?  I can’t help but feel there’s something you’re not telling me”.  

 

“I told you everything, Kanan.  I don’t know why I feel this way, it’s…. Really confusing...” Ezra sighed, “I was kind of hoping you would explain it to me”.

 

The older Jedi smiled at his Padawan’s comment.   “I would if I could, kid.  But unfortunately this is something you’re gonna have to figure out for yourself”.  

 

Ezra managed a smirk in return.  “I was afraid you’d say something like that”.  

 

His Master smiled back as he stood and made his way to the door, turning to face his student before exiting.  “Tomorrow we’ll figure out if the kid has a family we can return him to.  In the meantime, get some rest.  Force knows you could use it.”

 

The blind Jedi could not see his Padawan’s face as he shared this last bit of information with him, but if he could, he would have seen the color drain from it at the mention of the infant’s possible family.  In that moment, Ezra realized that he hadn’t even considered the possibility of the child he found on the streets that day having a family.  A home to return to.  He looked at the infant and saw…

 

Himself.    

 

Lost.  

 

Worthless.  

 

Pathetic.  

 

Street rat.  

 

Nothing.  

 

Better off dead.  

  
  
  
  


**Alone.**

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter was really difficult to write! I had a lot of different ideas and I ended up re-writing it about three times. I hope the end product is satisfying, though. There were a lot of scenes I originally had written in Kanan’s POV, but I ended up deciding to keep the story from primarily Ezra’s POV because this whole thing is his journey, after all. Anyways, comments, criticism, and suggestion are always appreciated. There should only be one more chapter to this fic before I close it up, so I hope you have all been enjoying it. Until next time, may the Force be with you!


	3. We Need to Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All that resolution-y stuff!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys! This is it! Last chapter! Sorry it took so long to get out, but I just graduated High School so I had a lot on my plate. On the upside, it’s the longest chapter yet, so… there’s that! Thanks again to everyone who read, reviewed, followed, favorited, bookmarked, kudos, etc. It really means the world to me and I hope that I can continue to make people happy with my writing in the future. TW for brief descriptions of symptoms associated with mental illness in this chapter. All descriptions are based off personal experience so I am sorry if I offend anyone. If you all wanna follow me on tumblr you can find my stuff at @mrntanksart. It’s a relatively new blog, so I pretty much faint from excitement whenever I get a new follower. I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

It felt like ages before Ezra finally willed himself to move from that table. After his conversation with Kanan, his mind had inexplicably gone numb. He couldn't feel. He couldn't think. And with no other logical next step coming to mind, Ezra found himself wandering the halls of The Ghost, simply letting his feet carry him wherever they would go. 

The thin halls of the freighter stretched out before him. Ezra took it all in. It felt like just yesterday that this motley Crew of Rebels took him under their wing, and yet these walls already had held so many memories for him. All of the things he'd learned, all of the mistakes he'd made, the life they'd given him. He couldn't even imagine where he'd be without Kanan and the others. Back on the streets of Lothal? A prisoner of the Empire? Dead? Just another lonely coward who could never see the big picture. Pathetic. 

Drawing in a deep breath, Ezra stretched out his hand and began to absent-mindedly trace the walls around him, feeling every grove and indentation they had to offer. It was a strangely comforting gesture; centering and stabilizing his mind which, at the moment, felt like a stalled engine. Deep down, Ezra knew he should be confronting his problems; thinking and healing like Kanan had taught him to, but for some reason, he simply couldn’t. His mind was miles away and there was no apparent way to bring it back, so he continued to wander blindly, unaware of the world around him. 

Several minutes passed like this before the young Jedi finally paused his journey. He was intrigued by the sound of a gentle melody coming from the cockpit. A honey soaked voice, mellifluous and quiet, drew out beautiful, melancholy tones in a language he did not recognize. He hesitantly approached, craning his neck in an attempt to hear it all more clearly, but with little success. The voice was undeniably Hera’s. But… singing? The Twi’lek woman, as motherly as she could be, rarely showed any signs of emotion or affection, so to hear her in an act of such vulnerable expression was jarring to say the least. 

Ezra reached the cockpit entrance and pressed his ear against the cool, metal door. The song was beautiful, exponentially enhanced by Hera’s sugary voice. He paused before punching in the lock code, wondering if the intrusion was wise or even necessary. But his curiosity got the better of him and he continued forwards, albeit with caution. He didn’t want to scare the woman, much less embarrass her if she thought she had been opening up in privacy, even if he still had full intentions to tease her about the incident later. 

The cockpit door opened with a hiss and Hera swung around in response. Her expression quickly morphed from shocked, to slightly embarrassed, and then to deeply weary. Exhaustion was evident in her gaze as her eyes slowly traveled from Ezra to something in her arms. 

No, not something.   
Someone. 

She shot the boy a weary smile and continued to rock the unfamiliar child. “Oh, hi Ezra. You surprised me, I thought you went to bed. Don't worry Kanan explained everything to me, you should get some rest...” Hera trailed off, turning to stifle a yawn into her shoulder. 

“What about you?” the teen asked. He knew Hera had a habit of pushing herself too far in situations like this. That’s just how she was. Selfless to a fault. 

Emphasizing his point, she yawned again. “I’ll be fine as long as I take some stims. Besides, this little one doesn’t seem to want to sleep unless someone is holding him,” she cooed, nodding down at the small child in her arms. 

Ezra swallowed hard, wondering whether or not he should bring up the obvious. “Were you…. Singing…. To him?” He asked cautiously, still shocked to have seen her outside of her typical professionalism. 

Hera quickly turned away from him, but not in time to hide her blushing cheeks. She let out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah... My mom used to sing me this old lullaby whenever I couldn’t sleep. Always put me out within seconds,” she finished, trying and failing to hide another yawn. “Apparently it still does”. 

Ezra smiled at the woman. He always enjoyed these rare times she opened up to him, even in little ways. They were some of the few moments in which neither of them had to be strong. They could be human… relatively speaking. Before he quite knew what he was doing, Ezra blurted out: “How about I take him for awhile?” looking at the sleeping form against her chest. “It looks like you could use some sleep. Besides, I can’t really sleep right now anyways, and it’s kinda my fault the kid’s here in the first place. Might as well pull my weight when it comes to taking care of him”. 

Hera seemed wary, but still tired enough to take up the offer. “Are you sure? I don’t want you staying up all night, especially on my behalf”. 

He wanted to say no, he really did, but nothing that had happened all day held any semblance of sense, and he found himself answering yes. Despite her previous worry, Hera was visibly relieved at his response and she wasted no time reaching the teen and handing off the child with care. 

“That's right… now make sure you support the neck…. Yes, just like that,” she explained as she gently guided the boy’s hands to where they needed to be. The child immediately began to protest at the motion, fussing as he was passed from one being to another. Ezra began to quietly panic at the sound of the infant's wails, but Hera was simply too tired to take notice. The child's screams roughly pulled him back into reality, and in that moment, all the pain and confusion from earlier that day returned in full force, leaving him speechless. 

“Don't worry, he'll calm down once he gets settled. It's been a rough day for this little guy…” Hera cooed, her fingers lingering for a moment, stroking the infant's hair before breaking into another yawn. “Alright, I'm going to bed. I'll be in my cabin if you need me. Wake me in a few hours to trade back, you need your rest too,” she finished in a fond tone as he headed towards the door. 

Ezra remained silent as the cockpit door closed behind her, staring expectantly at the child he has just been given. He felt so helpless as all the fear and confusion from the day slowly seeped back into his mind. With every one of the child's wails, the fervency of his emotions grew stronger, to the point where it felt like a million voices were screaming incoherently inside his head. Ezra felt himself sink to the ground, still clutching the child tightly- wanting nothing more than to offer it comfort, but having no way to provide it. He was utterly helpless and it shook him to his core. 

Without thinking, the young Padawan called out to his master through the Force; praying for help- for answers he couldn't receive. Every sob the child uttered echoed in Ezra's mind, bringing forth memories of his own childhood. In every cry he heard himself, wailing for his lost parents, begging passersby for help, for guidance, for love, yet never receiving it. How could someone do that to a child? Why was he left alone? He let out a choked sob, finally facing the poor child against his breast. 

“I'll never let you be alone…” Ezra cried, eyes clenched tightly. “I'll never, leave you alone,” he whispered again, even more determined than before. 

With that, the child finally began to calm down, his screaming replaced by occasional choked sobs until finally, the infant's breathing evened out as he entered the kind world of unconsciousness. Ezra sighed, finally relaxing as a few stray tears rolled lazily down his cheeks. 

It wasn’t long until a frantic Kanan burst through the cockpit entrance, stumbling forwards, searching for his Padawan. 

“Ezra! What’s wrong?! I felt your panic, are we under attack?!” the older man panted, blindly reaching out to offer assistance. Ezra stood and guided his master to the pilot’s seat, all the while keeping a tight grip on the Mirialan infant. “Are you okay?” Kanan questioned, settling into the seat. 

“It’s alright, Master,” Ezra sighed sheepishly, guilt rising in his stomach for disturbing his mentor for something he should have been able to handle on his own. “It was just… I was still trying to wrap my head around everything that happened today. It’s been…” he sighed, “It’s been a lot to take in…” Kanan gave a small nod in response, but remained visibly on edge. 

“Is there anything you want to tell me?” he questioned, not easily forgetting the severity of the emotions he had just sensed moments ago. 

Ezra paused, reliving the last few moments in his head and pondering whether or not his Master could help anymore at this point. 

“Kanan?” He asked, finally working up the courage to speak, “What was it like? You know- when you guys first took me in?” 

The older Jedi place a hand on his chin, leaning back a moment as if to ponder. Honestly, though, he could remember it all as if it were yesterday. Every thought, every emotion, every fear he had experienced when he met this child still lay in the forefront of his mind. Then suddenly, everything clicked. His Padawan's strange behavior, his emotional breakdowns, they all made sense. Sucking in a breath, Kanan placed a hand on Ezra's shoulder, giving him a small, understanding smile. 

“It was like looking in a mirror,” he explained, carefully choosing his next words. “Ezra, sometimes you encounter people in your life that remind you of yourself. You’re forced to look at the good and the bad in your life, and, well… it’s not always pretty. We don’t like seeing our flaws, our unresolved issues, our pains and strife. We bury these things deep within ourselves in an attempt to forget them”. The older man smirked a bit before continuing. “But the Force has a nasty habit of not letting us get away with that. It puts these people in our paths to Force us to see our issues from a different angle- confront them head on and, most importantly,” he paused, smiling brightly and squeezing Ezra’s shoulder foundly, “see the good in them”. Ezra let a small smile escape at this before explaining. 

“I think I know what you mean. When I saw this guy in the streets, all I could think about was how lonely he was going to be, about how he’d just lost everything. But even though I was angry at whoever had done this, I was even angrier at myself for reacting so harshly. I've seen so many people in situations like this. I shouldn't have let it affect me so much.” 

Kanan cut him off quickly. “No, Ezra, you should have. It’s true you have to learn to control your emotions when you see wrongdoings, but never let Injustice stand Ezra. Especially when it hits that close to home. You are not weak because you couldn’t stand to see this child go through what you had to”. 

Than something happened that Kanan didn’t expect: Ezra began to cry. It was soft- barely audible, but there was no mistaking that slight hitch of breath that came along with sobbing. And in that moment, Kanan’s heart bled. As hard as his own life had been, Ezra had been through so much more in a much shorter time, and he managed to overcome it all without drowning himself in alcohol like he had done. He was forced to be strong for so long. To face atrocities that no child should see, and act numb towards them just so he could survive. Nobody deserved that. Nobody. 

Without speaking, he stretched his arm around the crying teen’s shoulder and pulled him close. Ezra tensed slightly at the touch, but did not pull away.   
“I always told myself that if I stopped to care about the bodies in the street, that I would become one. I guess I still can’t shake the feeling that I’ve endangered everyone by doing this,” he gasped. 

“You’re not alone anymore, Ezra. And thanks to you, neither is he,” Kanan choked out, laying his free hand on the head of the infant in his Padawan’s arms. “Thanks to you, he has a shot at finding his family. You gave him a chance at life, never forget that. Ezra”. 

The three sat there together in the cockpit for hours, allowing the night to pass them by in reverent silence. They sat there; three generations of loss, of pain, of loneliness, but also of hope. Three generations of people that had been dragged through Hell and back and lived to tell the tale. Three generations of people who chose not to just accept their blessings, but to pass them on to others. Three generations of survivors. Three generations of heroes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s that! Sorry again for the slow update on this last chapter, but it took a lot of thought and I wanted to take the time to give these characters as much justice as I could. For anyone who wonders what happens to the kid, I’m operating under the assumption that they found relatives for it to stay with, but you can let your imaginations fly if you wish! That’s the glory of fanfiction! Anyways, thank you all so much again. I expect to be putting up more SWR stuff too, as well as some Voltron: Legendary Defender if you’re into that. Constructive Criticism is always welcome and until next time: May the Force be with you!


End file.
